Lucky delivers a blunt wooden blow under Yellowbeard’s chin, which drops him like an ogre’s uppercut.
Kai is certain the female Ulfen is beyond help, but he manages to stabilize her partner before he bleeds out.
The fight was over quickly, and you figure it unlikely anybody heard the commotion, either inside the manor or out on the street.
The two Ulfens wear average quality chain shirts under their surcoats.
Greydog Manor’s front door is locked.
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Lucky pants heavily as he recovers from his exertion. The smell of brimstone fades and the flames flicker out. He wipes the blood and gore from his three-section-staff, but his face still bears a grimace.
"Stupid... why... why would they not stand down? It's... senseless. All senseless."
He looks up, and gestures towards Khorshid. "Only thing I ever killed before the Sisterhood took me was a chicken for the pot. Now look at me." He shakes his head. "Now look what I have become."
Satisfied that Yellowbeard will recover eventually, Kai attends to Papa Òxọ́lé’s gruesome wound.
After re-checking the Sentinels’ pockets, the Ocean Oracle discovers a hound-headed key on Yellowbeard.
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Drelluandast isn’t quite sure how to respond to Lee’s existential crisis, so he awkwardly pats the man on the back once before hurrying over to look at the discovered key.
“Oh, that’s interesting. Look, it’s been alloyed or something - maybe a mix of iron and alchemically-treated silver?” He ponders for a moment longer, then shakes his head in confusion.
Assuming Drelluandast hands over the hound-headed key, Khorshid discovers it fits the front door lock.
After opening the door, the haughty gnome steps into a tastefully appointed foyer, leading off to plush salons, libraries, and studies.
However, the centrepiece of the ground floor architecture is undoubtedly the imposing darkwood staircase which winds upward to the next storey.
While the group turns Greydog Manor’s Entry Hall into a temporary hospice cum morgue, Korlis notes that the ground floor is deserted.
As Lucky leads his companions upstairs, he notices that only one door on the upper floor is closed. Moving closer, he can hear a faint moaning, and despite it being Midsummer, the halfling feels artificial heat coming through the door.
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Kai follows the others as they head up the stairs. It takes him a bit longer as staircases, especially grandiose ones like this, are still a little new to him. His blackened hand briefly touches one immense piece of darkwood used in its construction just to see how it feels. The wood doesn't speak to him directly, but he almost feels as if it has stories to tell and deep, sonorous songs to sing.
"Do Ulfen's usually like this much heat?" He's pretty sure that's weird, but maybe it's a local thing.
Kolris finds no traps on the door. A thorough examination also reveals the door is unlocked …
Entering the master bedroom you are greeted by a blast of heat. A roaring fire blazes in the fireplace even though the day is swelteringly hot. A huge bearded man shivers under his blankets, his bed pushed dangerously close to the fire.
A thin halfling in servant’s attire sits in the far corner by a window, fanning himself with a handkerchief. The bearded man looks at you and blinks a few times, then speaks through chattering teeth. “Are y-you the P-path-f-finders?”
Assuming you identify yourselves, he tries to say more, but can't get anything through his shivers.
The servant, Tyros, tells you, “A week ago, my Master caught his rival Bengeirr Haldyrsson’s men in his basement vault, and mistook them for common thieves. One of the intruders had lit a lantern he found in the vault.”
“When the light from the lantern struck the Master, he began to freeze. When the light shone on a tapestry hanging on a wall in the hallway outside of the vault, a shimmering doorway appeared, frightening the intruders enough to flee the manor. With the Master in a weakened state from the immediate effect of the cold, the thieves easily escaped him and fled with the lantern and other valuables from inside the vault.”
“After the raid, one of the Master’s men, a fellow named Tirfyr, walked into the portal on the tapestry to investigate. He returned a moment later saying that it led to a ship encased in ice. He went back to investigate further, but after half an hour, the portal disappeared, trapping poor Tirfyr on the other side.”
“Two days ago, Bengeirr’s men returned with Bengeirr himself and killed the household guards. I could not prevent Bengeirr spitting on the Master, snarling, ‘Now you’ll die in bed like an old woman.’”
"He left two guards to prevent anyone from saving us and tossed the corpses of the household guards and servants into the vault in the basement. In his current state, the Master was unable to do anything to defend himself. He wrote a coded letter to his friend Adril Hestram. I tied it to a rock and threw it out the window and over the wall as a neighborhood child passed by, hoping he would deliver the letter and not just take the two coppers I had wrapped in it."
Tyros looks up at you with a worried expression, while Skelg just lies there, shivering.
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"Yes, sir, we're the Pathfinders, sent by Adril himself," Kai answers the old man. Seeing that the Master is in no shape to talk, he turns his attention to Tyros.
"Dang, dude, you've had it rough here. So no one's been able to examine him? Have you done any healing on him?"
Kai's no physio, but he taps the Ripper with a charge of his healing wand just to be safe.
He then offers a charge to Tyros, "You doin' okay, man? Need healing?"
“Between the raiders’ first visit and Bengeirr Haldyrsson’s follow-up, the Master received a visit from a powerful cleric of Calistria, who was unable to cure his illness. She diagnosed the problem as a curse, but was similarly unable to remove it.”
Tyros looks deferentially at Kai and Papa Òxọ́lé. “Forgive me for saying so, sirs. But I expect your respective abilities are not quite as refined as hers, and so I fear your attempts at healing will not have any effect.”
Indeed, Skëlg appears no better after Kai’s administering of his healing wand, while Papa Òxọ́lé is unable to diagnose the problem.
“As for myself, apart from minor dehydration, which I have been treating with ice water and damp cloths, I am fit as a Storval Aurochs, sir.”
Tyros bows. “Though I do thank-you most sincerely for enquiring about my well-being, it is the Master I am concerned for.”
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"Well, it sounds like we need to find this lantern." Drelluandast nods, an expression of forced positivity on his face. "And it's probably still wherever this Bengeirr Haldyrsson put it. Does he have a house here as well by any chance?"
Of course, what we do once we have the lantern is another puzzle. Hit Skëlg again with it? Or maybe it has something to do with that portal in the basement? Certainly enough ice there to fit his shivering...
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“Mr. Skëlg Sir! This is very interesting! This is going to be a mission that I like! I am sorry for your condition sir but the primal nature of coldness is obviously involved here and as an emissary of the Lord of hell and the concordance of elements it is truly a pleasure to try to understand this mysterious illness!!“ the gnome with the slightly bleaching purple hair says.
Korshid’s sincere good wishes set off a coughing fit in The Ripper. He raises a limp arm in acknowledgement, before falling into a restless doze.
"Well, it sounds like we need to find this lantern … Does Bengeirr have a house here as well by any chance?"
“Bengeirr Haldyrsson? Possessing a home in the Ivy District?”
Tyros stifles a chortle before he remembers his station. “Freyja bless you, sir. No.”
“The man is a drunkard and a philanderer. His late father would weep with shame in Valhalla’s Halls to see what he has become.”
❄
The servant pauses for moment. “Did the other height-challenged master say you left one of Bengeirr’s people alive? If so, perhaps that individual could provide a lead on his employer’s current location?”
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"Cha, dude, for sure," Kai replies to Tyros while putting his wand away. "It just sounded like you'd been trapped in here for a while."
He wanders around the room looking at the various pieces of furniture and other items as the others talk to the halfling servant. "We should check out that tapestry, too, before we go jetting off."
He heads for the stairs back down to the foyer. "So, who's playing the seal and who's the shark when we question the guard?" At the blank looks of the others, he clarifies. "Oh, yeah, I think you land-folk call it 'good-cop-bad-cop."
Returning to the foyer, you discover Yellowbeard and the fallen woman have not moved.
A single CLW spell, wand charge or the like is all that is required to return the Ulfen man to consciousness.
He sits up groggily, groaning as he takes in his location, his dead partner and the six of you.
“I assume you want information.”
He closes his eyes and drops his head into his massive hands. “I’m in no condition to refuse you. What do you want to know?”
“Well Your Honor, Lagertha and me are part of Bengeirr Haldyrsson’s crew.”
The Ulfen answers Khorshid’s question with a combination of confusion and cluelessness. “That is, Lagertha was a crewmate, until yon halfling with the funny double-stick killed her, leaving only me here as a crew member.”
He frowns. “I s’pose even though I’m your prisoner, technically I am still part of the Captain’s crew … Maybe?”
“Anyways, as to his plans, well as far as they go, he likes sleeping in ‘til late, when he’ll get up and begin the day’s drinkin’ while he plots how to bed some wench that night, and brags to us about all the salt wives and wenches he has ever bedded.”
“Can’t say Bengeirr goes much for planning, Your Worship.”
“It … it was all part of the blood feud between Skëlg and Bengeirr’s families.”
Yellowbeard cowers from Lucky. “I don’t know its origin, Your Majesty. I swear I don’t. But Lagertha told me a woman was involved.”
“As for what was stolen … gold of course, a mask dedicated to Loki and an old lantern.”
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Now that the sharks have had their turn, Kai takes his turn to play the seal.
"We're sorry about Lagertha, ... uh, what's your name, dude?"
"So it's an old feud, made worse by some woman (Dude, don't they just always make things more complicated?) Where is Bengeirr now? Or at least where was he last you knew of? Can you tell me about the rest of the crew?"
Kai considers the answers and asks a follow up addressing the Ulfen by his name, of course. "Did Bengeirr know that the old lantern was magical before it cursed the Ripper and opened the portal?"
“Lagertha fell in battle, outnumbered 3 to 1. I am only sorry I am not drinking mead from the skulls of our enemies in Valhalla with her this night.”
“What's your name, dude? Where is Bengeirr now? Can you tell me about the rest of the crew?”
“I am Zimmer. There are a dozen or so of us in Bengeirr’s crew now. I do not know many of them well. During the second raid quite a few of Skëlg’s men chose to come over to our side.”
“Bengeirr has conquered a warehouse in the Puddles, which serves as a wet dock while the crew repairs his ship.”
The big man nods to Khorshid. “It neighbors the Devil’s Dregs tavern, which is convenient for breakfast, elevenses, lunch, smoko, afternoon tea, dinner, supper – as well as a quiet drink or two after work.”
"Did Bengeirr know that the old lantern was magical before it cursed the Ripper and opened the portal?"
“The old lantern is magical? That’s news to me, Your Holiness. Bengeirr told us Loki cursed the Ripper as a personal favor to him.”
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"Well, it sounds like we're about to pay a visit to this warehouse." Kolris interjects, finally.
"You said there were about a dozen or so of you." He approaches Zimmer, and leans down to get closer, but not in a specifically threatening way. "You also said Bengeirr's not much of a planner. Does that carry over to how he guards his warehouse? How many on guard usually? Are there shifts when the guard detail is lighter?"
"And what's best at the Devil's Dregs?" he adds, off-handedly.
"How many on guard usually?"
“Depends who’s on Bengeirr’s $#!Ͱ list. Could be one or two. Could be the entire crew. I dunno, I ain’t been back there for days.”
"As for what's best at the Devil's Dregs, Your Reverence …"
Zimmer *shrugs* “After half-a-dozen ales, it all tastes the same.”
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Kai ponders the question of what to do with Zimmer, but either way isn't keen on just knocking him out again.
"Zimmer, you said a few of Skelg's men joined Bengeirr after the raid. So loyalty isn't critical, as long as you fight well. Could we convince you to switch over to the Ripper's side? You did fight well, but you can't really go back to Bengeirr and admit that you lost, right?"
After observing Lucky with bulging eyes, Zimmer makes a quick decision.
“Sure! I’m not in any condition to fight for you, but I could resume my post in front of the Manor, giving the appearance to any of Bengeirr’s spies that nothing is amiss.”
The big Ulfen rubs his temples. “Hel! You wouldn’t even need to give me a weapon if you don’t want to. My size should see off any troublemakers.”
He then rolls up a sleeve and offers up his palm to Kai. “Let us seal our pact with the Blood Oath! Cut our palms and forearms, intermingle our blood!”
“And then swear, ‘You are my Blood Brother. From this day forth, we shall share of our bounty, hearth and women!’”
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"Where I'm from, we don't like puttin' blood in the water. Brings the sharks and sometimes even other worse things," he adds with a grimace.
"So let's the shake the merfolk way, and use the Ulfen words." He waits for Zimmer to agree before sheepishly adding one last thing. "Oh, and be gentle with your grip, friend, my hands are... well, you see..." He holds his hands up showing the blackened and papery skin before gently taking the Ulfen's hand in an arm-wrester's grip.
Without betraying the slight pain he feels at the contact, he brings the big man's meaty fist to his own forehead. He waits for Zimmer to touch his forehead to the back of Kai's ruined hand then swears the oath in unison.
"You are my Blood Brother. From this day forth, we shall share of our bounty, hearth and women!”
Releasing his new Brother's hand, he smiles in satisfaction. "Righteous, Dude! And now that you've sworn the oath, there's no reason not to give you your weapon back."
“Well, this is hardly traditional.”
Zimmer sets his beard braids a-waving as he shakes his head. “But when faced with life-altering predicaments I always ask myself, ‘What would Thor do?’”
Having made his decision in the affirmative, the big Ulfen is surprisingly gentle as he presses his forehead to the back of Kai’s hand and recites the oath.
“Not so different from the ‘practice’ oaths I took with friends as a childling. I had more Spit Brothers than anyone else in village.”
“Tuberculosis claimed hardly any of ‘em either.”
❆
“What now, Your Honors? Do you want ol’ Zim to go stand watch in the front garden while you decide your next move?”
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Lucky shakes his head, but keeps his mouth shut until the Pathfinders are out of Zimmer's earshot.
"You're one crazy 'dude', mate" he tells Kai. "I don't fault you for looking for peaceful solutions, not at all. But you can't trust a man who'll switch allegiance as quickly as Zimmer and his fellows. I'll be surprised if we find him still at his post when we come to visit the Puddles. Most like, he'll be in the nearest pub nursing his wounds and telling tall tales."
"Let's go see that tapestry in the basement." Lucky readies his weapons, keeping his sansetsukon in hand.
The tapestry is easily found in one of the drawing rooms on the ground floor.
It depicts an Ulfen longship on a rolling sea, just as a blizzard is about to begin. The shadowed faces of the many crew members are anonymous and unfamiliar.
The ship is sailing off a rocky coast or island, with a trio of long-tailed flying creatures riding the storm-winds in the longship’s wake.